And it goes

And it goes, I suppose

Towards the valley of dreams

And it knows, as it chose

The ficklest of things

The dream, as it seems: a mostly wayward thing

Plural in its nature and in all that it brings

As it rose, how it rose

Spire in the making

There it goes, look’it go

Admire its creation

Climb the spire, ever higher

Scale these heights, up you go

Cast your gaze into the unknown dream

Higher, maybe higher

Perhaps higher you’ll go

.

.

.

Cyborg

Beware: the cyborg